


Parabola

by Whisper132



Series: The Parabola Continuum [1]
Category: Tennis no Oujisama | Prince of Tennis
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-12-29
Updated: 2011-09-09
Packaged: 2017-10-23 13:57:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 11
Words: 15,326
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/251074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Whisper132/pseuds/Whisper132
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Osamu tutors Gin in math, Gin cleans Osamu's apartment, and awkward things happen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Home visits were a bitch, but at least he usually got some free food out of it. Standing at the entrance to Ishida Gin's home, Osamu wasn't quite sure he was going to get a warm welcome. The house was very traditional, down to the nameplate at the entry gate. There were also three very angry-looking men standing inside the courtyard, glaring at him as he debated just faking the report as he'd done for Chitose, though in that case it was because he hadn't wanted to report that he suspected the Chitose family of moral insufficiencies.

"Oh, Osamu. Is it my day for a house call?" Gin's large hand fell on Osamu's shoulder. "I thought it was tomorrow." Gin walked past Osamu into the courtyard. "Here are the groceries," he told the three men. "Take them to mother." The men bowed, took the groceries, and disappeared into the house.

"Cousins or something?" Osamu asked, though he knew from the men's faces that they couldn't be related to Gin at all.

"Not really, but something like that." Gin shrugged. "Dad's not home yet, but mom should be in the kitchen. If you'll wait just inside I'll go get her. She'll want to give you the tour." Gin's shoulders brushed the sides of the doorframe as they entered the house. He slipped his enormous sandals off and placed them in a cubby. His name was painted onto the top of the cubby in blue glitter-glue. There were little hearts around it, too.

"Cute," Osamu said. "Your sister do that?"

"My little brother. He did it when he was five." Barefoot, Gin stepped up onto the tatami floor. "If you'll please wait here. I'll bring you some slippers."

While Gin was gone, Osamu looked around the interior from the genkan. The place was nice in a less-is-more kind of way. Everything looked fresh, even the tatami. Gin's mother must be a very diligent houseworker to keep the dust down and the tatami unratted, especially with a big guy like Gin stomping around.

"Sorry to keep you waiting. Here." Gin put down a pair of green house slippers. "I hope they're okay."

"More than I've gotten anywhere else so, yeah, it's great." The slippers were quality and soft. Osamu wondered, if he asked nicely, if Gin would let him take them home.

"Has Gin done something wrong?" a woman who looked too young to be Gin's mother asked. "He wasn't fighting was he? His father and I taught him not to fight smaller boys."

"No ma'am, no fighting. I just wanted to introduce myself." He took off his hat and hoped he didn't have some serious hat hair. "Watanabe Osamu, mathematics teacher and tennis coach."

"You're much taller than Gin described you," Ishida-san said. "And cleaner."

"Mom!" Gin's cheeks flushed and he turned his head away. It was kinda cute. It would've been cuter were Ishida-san not standing right there, staring at Osamu like she was reading his mind. Osamu didn't care for mothers much. Fathers he could deal with – a few beers and anyone was your friend – but mothers were perceptive and used to scrutinizing anything a male did.

Right now, Ishida-san seemed concerned about Osamu's elbows. "It's so dry out," she said, grabbing Osamu by the crook of his arm. "Zaps the moisture right out of you." She pulled Osamu to a large room with a small table covered in catalogs. "My friend is a beautician and she says that the best thing for men your age is to take care of your skin."

"I use some moisturizing shower gel," Osamu said, wanting more than anything for Ishida-san to let go of his arm. He'd been screamed at before by parents – one of the second years caught some venereal disease and his parents believed it to be from an indiscretion during an away match – but he'd never been forced to take beauty tips. He didn't think anything about his person screamed a need for beauty tips.

"Feel Gin's skin. Isn't it soft?" Ishida-san dragged Osamu's hand over Gin's arm. "Nowadays a man can't marry a proper girl unless he takes care of himself."

"Mom, you're embarrassing me." Gin pulled Osamu free and stood between his coach and his mother. "He doesn't need your help."

Ishida-san smacked Gin on the arm. "I didn't raise my boys to talk to me like that. We'll discuss it when your father gets home."

Osamu watched the muscles in Gin's shoulders tighten then relax. He wondered if the skin on the shoulders was as smooth as Gin's arm. He then wondered if he should get the hell out before he had any more crazy thoughts.

"Well, it was a pleasure meeting you. I need to go so I can finish the rounds." He bowed to Ishida-san and gave Gin a light punch to the side. "See you at practice," he said, then let Ishida-san show him out.

  
*****

  
"Mom told me to give these to you." Gin handed Osamu a basket of cosmetic samples. "You can just throw them away."

"I'll take 'em." Osamu sifted through the samples and found one that didn't sound too offensive. "For sensitive skin, huh?" He opened the sample and applied the lotion to his arms. It made him smell like a buttercream cake. "Tell your mom thanks for me."

Gin nodded and went off to warm up.

"Osamuuuuu." Koharu grabbed one of Osamu's lotioned arms. "Someone's got impure thooooughts."

"Go find a mirror, kid." Just because he might have entertained some thoughts about how nice Gin's skin was didn't make him a pervert. Latching onto a guy and rubbing yourself up and down his arm, that made you a pervert. "And get offa me before that guy blows a gasket again." Some normal students would have been nice for his first year of teaching but no, he got the freak brigade.

"I can help you," Koharu whispered, moving yet closer, until their sides were pressed together and Koharu's mouth was against Osamu's ear.

"Don't need your help, kid. Fine on my own, thanks. Go do some stretches or something." Osamu wiped at the side of his face with a handkerchief and readjusted his hat. It was about time for his afternoon nap while the team practiced. The one thing he liked about the group he'd been saddled with was their independence. They didn't need him to point out anything, just sit there on the bench and look like an adult. He got the principal off his back and they got to play however the hell they wanted to. It was a win-win situation.

If asked, though, Osamu would tell Shiraishi that he was bending his left leg a little too much on the backhand. He would tell Kin-chan that less sugar and more fiber might keep him from having to rush to the restroom at odd moments, and he would tell Zaizen to go talk to the cheerleading squad because their captain was a pretty loose girl, and if Zaizen didn't get some soon he was going to be a pissy little shit for life.

"Koharu says you're crushing on someone." Chitose pushed Osamu's feet off the bench and sat down. "Anybody I know?"

"I ain't fourteen, kid. I don't crush on people." Glaring at Chitose wasn't worth the effort of removing his hat. Instead, he just kicked his feet back up on the bench, resting his ankles on the kid's lap. "Now shut up, would ya. I'm trying to sleep."

"Is it Shiraishi? If it is, he'd probably let you do him." The legs under Osamu's ankles shifted. "He's probably got something, though. We're betting he's got some kind of weird arm herpes or something, and that's why he's always got that bandage on. What d'ya think?" The legs shifted again, twisting sideways. "This bench sucks for naps. We should get something better."

"It only sucks because you won't shut the hell up. Go practice."

"Don't need to. Is it Gin?"

The hat came off. "It isn't anybody, now shut the hell up and get off my bench." Apparently a guy couldn't accept some lotion samples without causing suspicion. Or maybe all these kids just had sex on the brain. Osamu knew it was the case for Koharu, but he expected a little more lucidity from Chitose. Puberty had no mercy, it seemed. "If you don't want to practice then go home, or call that guy whose name you're always whimpering in the showers." There, that ought to shut him up.

"You mean Kippei? Can't. He's all depressed because he screwed up my eye."

"I'm not your therapist, kid. Get your ass off my bench." He moved his ankles to facilitate Chitose's departure. Chitose rose from the bench and Osamu replaced his feet and hat. Osamu took a deep breath and let sleep claim him as, on a nearby court, Koharu and Yuuji broke up for the third time that day.

  
*****

  
Beer was the greatest invention known to mankind. No matter what kind of shitty day he'd had, all Osamu had to do was go home to his 6 mat hole in the wall, down a few beers, and life was good again. The apartment didn't have much in it: a book on tennis strategy, a few changes of clothing, boxes of beer – the usual trappings of a bachelor pad. All he really needed were some women to fill his lonely hours between the time practice ended and school began the next day. He couldn't really be bothered to go out and meet women, though. There were a few good choices in the complex, but they'd gotten one look at the questionable content of his mail (he never sent for the catalogs, they just came) and pushed him into the crazy pervert box. If the women met some of the kids Osamu coached, they'd probably re-evaluate him. He might be prone to staring, but at least he didn't go stealing mementos out of the girls locker room.

Some lame pop song burst forth from Osamu's phone to alert him of a message. He didn't know who the singer was – some girl who was happy that her "baby" loved her – but Kenya assured him it was in the weekly top 30. The kids always made sure Osamu's phone was hip and cool, even if they couldn't go ten laps without complaining about how cruel Osamu was (Shiraishi ordered the laps and he didn't protest) and how they were all going to collapse and die before nationals.

Osamu checked the message on his phone, looking past the twitching hearts and the blinking stars to see if there was actually a note or if Koharu decided to spam his email with emoticons again.

 _Osamuuuuuu, Gin is having trouble with math and won't tell you. *chuu* Help him? He won't listen to meeeeeeee._

That Koharu had set aside some of his Hassle Yuuji Time to tutor Gin meant something very big was wrong. That Koharu sent an email containing three coherent sentences also indicated the matter was of a serious nature. If Gin didn't keep his grades up, he'd be pulled from the team. If Gin was pulled from the team, they wouldn't make nationals and Osamu wouldn’t get a Team Performance Bonus. He had beer riding on that bonus.

Finishing off his can of Sapporo (it was on sale so he bought it in bulk), he grabbed a notepad (it was only a little stained) and a pencil (just a little chewed) and headed out.

  
******

  
"So, uh, you always wear traditional dress around the house?" Osamu sat very still in Gin's living room. If he moved he would smash into the table in front of him and knock over the expensive looking tea set. Ishida-san insisted on giving a proper tea service before Osamu could begin tutoring her son. Nothing showed gratitude like making your son's tutor sit in seiza while you hunted around for the box of "special occasion" tea.

Gin looked down to his attire and shrugged. "Dad makes us."

"Ah. It suits you." He wanted very badly to scratch at his head but, seeing as he'd run out of dandruff shampoo, scratching near the expensive tea set wasn't wise. Instead, he wiggled a little on his dying legs.

"You can sit normally. We're out of special tea." Gin leaned to the side and looked down the hall. "Her purse is gone. It'll take her at least half an hour to get back."

"So you're having trouble in math." Since Osamu still couldn't feel his legs, he might as well start talking about the matter at hand. By the time they finished arguing about Gin's need for a tutor – Osamu assumed there would be an argument because no student ever wanted extra work – maybe his legs would be functional and he could get himself home.

Gin shrugged.

Well, at least the kid wasn't denying it. "Look, if your grades slip it'll be trouble for the team so, ah, I'll just give you a few extra lessons after practice." Osamu looked around. "But not here."

"Not here," Gin agreed. "Your place?"

Osamu though of his beer cans and empty convenience store bento containers. "Uh…"

"The library isn't open late enough and restaurants cost money." Gin's calm stare plainly said that he knew Osamu had exactly two thousand yen to last him the rest of the month.

"Yeah, my place. We'll start tomorrow." Osamu pulled a folded piece of paper from his back pocket. "Here. You can do this assessment tonight so I know where you stand." Nevermind that Osamu graded all of Gin's tests at school, those didn't actually require thought, just that the kids memorized the examples in the book. If he was going to tutor Gin, he might as well make sure the kid actually knew the material.

Gin stared at the paper calmly as if meditating on the numbers and signs. "Is this the level 1 test or the advanced test?"

"Nothing, huh?" Osamu gave in and scratched his head. If the easiest test he had was going to be a problem then they _really_ had work to do. "How did you graduate elementary school without learning math?"

Gin shrugged and handed the assessment back. "You don't need math to play tennis."

"Yeah you do, at least a B's worth of math or you hand over your jersey. You can take the junior high entry assessment tomorrow during practice."

"I've got doubles practice with Kenya."

"Then take it quickly, kid. You won't be playing doubles if you don't get your math scores up."

While Gin sat, looking upset – assuming the knitted brows and grimace was a sign of discontent – Osamu thought about all the beer he wouldn't be able to buy if the student before him didn't shape up. If Gin weren't five times Osamu's body mass, he might try threats, but Gin's size – not to mention the three semi-irate looking men outside – rendered that idea useless. He would just have to wait until tomorrow to see what kind of rotting, splintered bone fate had thrown him.

  
*******

  
"I read a book like this once," Koharu said, arm hooked around Osamu's elbow despite Osamu's best efforts to remove it. Koharu had decided that he wanted to "help" Osamu administer Gin's test. "First the teacher pulls the student aside for special lessons, then they start making out, then they do it on the copy machine." Koharu tugged at Osamu's arm. "Osamuuuu, is your copy machine lonely today?"

"Shut up when people are taking tests," Osamu said. He tried again and finally managed to get his arm free.

"Can Yuuji and I skip practice today? We want to strengthen our doubles love game." Koharu puckered up and moved uncomfortably close.

"Whatever, just get outta here." Shoving Koharu away, Osamu turned back to Gin, who hadn't been disturbed in the slightest by the ruckus. "Uh, five more minutes."

"Okay." Gin gave a nod and returned to his exam. Two minutes later, he was done.

"How do you think you did?" Osamu asked, taking out a red pen. "Anything you feel confident on?"

Gin stayed silent.

"You got something to say, kid, then say it."

Gin cleared his throat and bowed his head. "If I felt confident then I wouldn't need you to tutor me." He blinked and added, "Watanabe-sensei," on, seemingly as an afterthought meant to mask the fact that he'd insinuated that Osamu was an idiot and asking stupid questions when he should be grading the exam.

"No need to get cheeky, kid." Osamu quickly graded the exam – the questions weren't hard and he could do them in his head – and frowned. "Sixty percent. You've got a lot of work to do."

Gin bowed his head again. (Osamu was really getting tired of Gin's formalities.) "I put myself in your hands, sensei."

Osamu swallowed a sudden lump in his throat. "Uh, yeah. We'll start immediately. You can come over tonight after practice."


	2. Chapter 2

Osamu's apartment was disgusting. Gin had never seen anything so filthy, including the alley behind the meat shop that his cousin Yuusuke ran. Still, Gin's mother would be upset if he were rude and pointed out how gross Osamu's living conditions were, so all he could say was, "Sorry for the intrusion," as he stepped past crumpled newspapers and empty beer bottles.

"It's kinda a mess. Sorry." Osamu was kicking his way toward the refrigerator. When he opened it, Gin saw a few decaying vegetables, but mostly the shelves were stocked with beer. If Gin tried to live like that, his mother would kick his ass.

"Mom gave me money to buy some dinner. Do you want me to go to the convenience store and get something?" When Gin saw Osamu's eyebrow twitch, he added, "to thank you for your kindness."

"Sure. I'll, ah, get the materials together and stuff." Osamu looked over at what Gin suspected was a dining room table; he couldn't really tell because it was covered with yet more crumpled newspaper and beer bottles…and porno magazines.

"Is there anything you'd especially like me to bring back?" Gin didn't think anything Osamu would want would be something someone of his age could purchase, though most shopkeepers tended to think Gin was much older than he was. Still, if word got around that the eldest son of the Ishida family was sneaking around Osaka, buying porno mags and beer, Gin would get the snot beaten out of him by his father, then his mother would sigh around the house for weeks, talking to Gin's dead grandparents about what a failure she was and how her neglectful mothering caused Gin to stray down the path of evil.

"Anything's fine. I, ah, haven't been grocery shopping for a while." Osamu scratched at his head; Gin wondered how often Osamu shampooed, or if Osamu _had_ shampoo. Maybe he should go to the grocery store instead of the convenience store.

Gin paused before asking, "May I use your bathroom?" He could sneak a look at the shower on the way, provided there was nothing in the bathroom that crawled up from the floor and tried to kill him.

"Uh, sure. There isn't any toilet paper, though, so you'll probably want to bring your tissue packet." Osamu scratched at his head again, hopefully in embarrassment.

"Please get your keys," Gin said. "We're going to the grocery store." He thought for a moment. "And the drug store."

Osamu's shoulders slumped and a strange, tight feeling surged in Gin's stomach, the same feeling that came when he watched documentaries about people abusing their pets. "It's hard to be a single guy, you know? This kind of thing," Osamu took in the room with a sweep of his hand, "isn't exactly a man's work."

"There's nothing wrong with your apartment, sensei." Gin wasn't lying, exactly. The apartment was fine; it was just all the crap littering it that was the problem. "I just want something with meat in it, and I don't know where the grocery store is around here. I figured it would be better to drive the meat back here so it doesn't spoil in the heat. And toilet paper's bulky, so a car is better for that, too."

"Oh, yeah, good point." Osamu punched Gin lightly on the shoulder. If Osamu ever tried to deliver a real punch with that kind of fist, he'd break all the fingers in his hand. "I'll get the keys."

Gin nodded. "I'll go to the bathroom and meet you at the door." Steeling himself, Gin went to see exactly what he was up against.

  
*****

  
That first night, Gin didn't do much studying. He spent the majority of his time at Osamu's bagging garbage and scrubbing tile. Osamu complained for a while, then began to lecture Gin on mathematics. Even though Gin wasn't looking at a textbook, he still learned a lot from the lectures. He also found out, after an hour battling mildew in Osamu's shower, that his coach took exceptional care of his hair and probably spent more money on shampoo and conditioner than he did on food with any nutritive content.

"Giiiiin, how was your love, love date?" Koharu pushed himself against Gin's side like a snake curling around a warm rock. Gin was used to it, so he didn't push the other boy away. Besides, it was just Koharu. Koharu was harmless.

"I can complete the sixth year elementary school mathematics exam with a satisfactory grade," Gin reported. "Tonight I'll start on first year middle school topics."

Koharu stepped away. "How boring! All you talked about was math?" He shook his head. "I'm disappointed in you."

"What else would we talk about while he's tutoring me in math?" Gin assumed he didn't understand what Koharu was talking about because Koharu was a genius. Still, if the other boy was such a genius, he should know better than to say things that Gin couldn't comprehend.

"You're hopeless," Koharu sighed, finally removing himself. "I'll have to have a talk with Osamu."

"Okay." Gin continued with his stretches. He wouldn't be able to complete the full afternoon practice – he was supposed to study for the last thirty minutes – so he needed to make the most of the morning practice and get to the ball machine before Shiraishi hogged it.

From behind him, Gin heard Osamu's smoky cough. "You did good yesterday."

"Thank you for the lessons. Please continue to look after me." Gin also wanted to ask that Osamu keep the apartment clean since Gin spent four hours cleaning it, but Gin knew better than to ask for the impossible. It would also be bad manners to point out his coach's personal flaws during practice.

"I'll make dinner tonight since you cooked yesterday." Osamu remained behind Gin's back, but there was a rustling to indicate Osamu was playing with his hat. Tetsu tugged at his bandana when he was feeling guilty about something; Gin wondered if Osamu's hat worked in the same way. Probably.

"I like cooking," Gin said. "I don't get to do it at home, so it was fun. Thank you for the opportunity." That should set Osamu at ease enough for him to leave Gin to his very important practicing.

"Oh, well then, uh, keep up the good work." Osamu patted Gin's shoulder. "Do you know how to make chicken soup?"

"We can go to the store after school," Gin said, beginning to make his way to the ball machine. "I'm going to practice now."

"I'll supervise." Normally, when Osamu said he was going to supervise something, it meant that he was going to sit down on the bench and have a nap. Gin wasn't sure why, having given the traditional "I'm going to ignore my job" signal, Osamu was following him. "Try using a little more rotation in your hips today. You might get a little more power."

Gin was even more confused as to why Osamu was offering advice…normal advice…possibly good advice. All Gin could say was, "Okay," as he fired up the ball machine.


	3. Chapter 3

"Hey Osamu, come check out my net play."

Osamu didn't even turn around. He knew, without a doubt, that Koharu asking for someone to look at his net play was not, in any way, a tennis related request. Instead of complying, Osamu simply called for Yuuji to take his doubles partner away.

"What do you think about the positioning of my wrists when I go for a backhand," Shiraishi asked, snaking up alongside Osamu's bench, interrupting what should have been the third nap of the day. "I think something's off."

He never should have given Gin the advice. Never. Yes, Gin was getting double the power now that he was focusing in on his weakness, but everyone on the team seemed to think that it was open season on Osamu's brain. "Look, I'm trying to sleep here," he told Shiraishi. "Go bug someone else."

"You helped Gin, so why can't you help me." Shiraishi broke out into a grin. "Or is Gin _special._ " Shiraishi moved Osamu's legs off the bench and sat down. "Koharu's been talking, but I thought he was crazy. Maybe it's all true."

Osamu really wanted to know what "it all" was, but he knew better than to ask. If he asked, Shiraishi would start talking and never leave him alone.

"Sensei." Gin stepped into the sun that Osamu's hat was supposed to be blocking, but even the hat was being rebellious. "It's time to study."

Shiraishi hummed to himself and stood up. "I guess I'll leave you two _alone_ then. Think about what I said, Osamu. I want my backhand to be perfect."

Osamu would show him a backhand alright.

"Sorry for the trouble," Gin said. "And thank you for the help."

For a big guy, Gin was pretty gentle and cute, like a fluffy panda bear that could kill you with a tennis ball on command. "Don't worry about it," Osamu told him, shrugging off the gratitude. "Just doing my job." Yes, doing his job and helping a student, and if the PTA found out that the student was also helping Osamu with some housework, Osamu's ass would be fired. "Did you memorize the theorems I gave you?"

"I tried." Gin shrugged.

One thing Osamu really liked about Gin was that he was honest. If the kid didn't understand something, he said so. If he tried and failed, he owned up to it. Honesty would only get the kid so far, of course. If Gin didn't understand the math for the upcoming exam, no amount of good will would be able to keep him from being benched.

"You remember any of them? Any?"

Gin's eyes moved to the ground. "A couple."

Osamu sighed. "Alright, let's go. I'll get my keys." They didn't need to stick around practice; it was almost over anyway, and Shiraishi always locked things up. Nobody would miss them, and if they didn't get an early start, they'd never finish the lesson load Osamu planned for the day. They couldn't afford to fall behind.

  
*****

  
"You were really cute as a kid," Osamu said. He only wanted to see Gin safely home, but Gin's mother demanded he come in for tea and see Gin's baby pictures. Even as a baby, Gin was huge.

"Mom, this is embarrassing." Gin's head had become red during Ishida-san's retelling of Gin and Potty-san, the blue training potty that Gin treated as a friend when he was little. That Potty-san was shaped like Shinkansen might have had something to do with it. There were photos of Gin bringing tea to Potty-san and posing in front of the plastic potty as though he were late for the train.

Ishida-san ignored her son's protests. "Do you have any children Watanabe-san?"

"No ma'am." There had been a few scares in college, but Osamu was pretty sure he was progeny-free, and he planned to stay that way. Babies grew into kids who grew into teenagers who were a pain in the ass.

"Are you gay by any chance?"

"Mom!"

Osamu wasn't sure what the proper response was, so he settled with, "I don't think so, ma'am. I'm just trying to get myself settled."

Ishida-san again ignored her red-faced and shaking son. "What a shame. An associate of ours is looking for a new man and you'd be just his type. I was hoping I could introduce you." She began to gather tea cups. "I'd read in a magazine that most men these days aren't entirely opposed to same sex relationships; they just don't find them as fulfilling. Please forgive my boldness in asking you about it." She patted Osamu on the shoulder. "You just feel like one of the family."

"I'm sorry," Gin said as soon as his mother was out of the room. "I'm very, very sorry."

"It's cool. It's not the first time it's happened." The last time had been at a bar of questionable integrity after too many beers. Osamu went home with a charming girl name Yumiko only to find out that her name was actually Yuichi. That was a bad night. "I should probably get going. Tomorrow's a school day. You should get sleep and stuff."

"Gin will show you out, Watanabe-sensei," Ishida-san said from another room. Osamu couldn't properly locate her; her voice seemed to be coming from everywhere.

"Please just forget about what she said," Gin said as he walked Osamu out of the house. "Kinoshita-san is a really good family friend, and he's been depressed, so she's getting desperate. She asks anyone who's good looking if they'll give it a shot."

Osamu cleared a small choke from his throat. "I am pretty good looking, I guess. I can see where she'd get her hopes up." No, wait, that didn't come out right at all. "I mean, uh…" Osamu scratched at his head and looked away from the Ishida house. "You know what I mean."

"I'm not sure I do, but I'm sorry. Dad says he probably shouldn't have married such a forward woman, but – " Gin shrugged, "—he can't do much about it now."

"Pretty big shock considering how talkative you are." Osamu began to make his way to his car.

"We all gave up talking after a while. It was safer that way."

"You'll probably end up like your old man and marry some loud girl," Osamu laughed. "There have been studies and stuff about that kind of thing."

Gin stopped walking and looked back to the house. "I hope not," he said. Turning back to Osamu, he smiled, the creases on his bald head relaxing. "You never know, though."

Osamu's stomach flipped and bubbled. Maybe the cup noodle for lunch really was expired. "There's time for that stuff later. You'll never get a girl if you fail math and the team doesn't get to nationals. No girl likes that kind of guy." Osamu's wallet didn't like that kind of guy, either.

"You going to need a jump to get home?" It wasn't until Gin patted the hood that Osamu realized they were already to his car.

"Nah, she'll start." He gave a quick look to his bit of scrap metal on wheels. "But hang around, you know, just in case."

Gin nodded and Osamu entered the vehicle. "Thank you for taking me home," Gin said, bowing. Osamu knew the only reason Gin was bowing was because his parents could see him on the security cameras (Osamu still didn't understand why there were cameras), and anything less than absolute respect for his teacher would be a cause for discipline. Osamu was given to understand that discipline in the Ishida home was…harsh.

Osamu turned the key and the car sputtered. The check engine light flickered on and off before the car wheezed and stopped.

Gin knocked on Osamu's window and Osamu rolled it down. Gin's expression was grim when he said, "I don't think a jump will help that."

Osamu was inclined to agree.


	4. Chapter 4

Gin was uncomfortable. His mother's solution to Osamu's car trouble was to lend him one of the Ishida family's cars. Osamu looked weird driving the black BMW, and Gin felt awkward arriving to school in a car driven by his teacher, who insisted on picking Gin up and taking him home to show his thanks. Osamu clarified that it was just until his crappy car (Osamu didn't say "crappy car" but that was the truth of it) could be towed out of the Ishida's driveway and repaired. Gin's father insisted on letting a family friend look at the vehicle and repair it, free of charge, since Osamu was tutoring Gin for free. Naturally, Gin didn't mention that he paid Osamu back by cleaning and cooking; that would be rude and damaging to Osamu's pride. No matter the situation, Gin's father said, you should never damage a man's pride.

"Your family's pretty special, isn't it?" Osamu said. His fingers were twitching on the steering wheel. It was probably the first time he'd driven without holding a cigarette. Gin made sure Osamu was aware that the Ishida household was a non-smoking environment. He said it gently, of course, and suggested that a few stops at convenience stores might help.

"Is it?" Gin had to pretend not to know what Osamu was talking about. It was safer that way.

"Look, I don't want to say anything bad about anyone but, uh, normal folks don't just loan a guy a BMW, you know?"

"They don't," Gin agreed. "We are very thankful for your help, sensei."

"You'll be caught up in another week, I think. You're not dumb; you just need a few more review sessions than you get at school. Make sure you keep up the review techniques we've been practicing and you'll be fine going forward."

Had the advice not come from Osamu, Lord of Lazy (Kin-chan called Osamu that when the coach wasn't listening), Gin might have thought it sound. Gin's current review "technique" was to mutter formulas to himself while straightening Osamu's apartment, which never seemed to stay clean. Osamu also refused to put his magazines out for recycling (he said he didn't want any of the neighborhood kids picking them up), so they just sat in a growing pile in the entryway, giving Gin papercuts on his ankles every time he passed them.

Osamu cleared his throat as if he were going to say something but remained silent. After a few minutes, he cleared his throat again. "You look like you've got something to say," he said.

Gin turned and stared at Osamu's profile. "Koharu says he'll take the magazines. You should give them to him." Gin looked away, focusing his gaze on a passing rice field. They'd be to school soon and Gin needed to come up with a plan for dodging Koharu's questions and Chitose's accusations.

"What kind of adult gives a middle school kid that kind of thing? I could be fired."

If Osamu hadn't been fired for his lackluster coaching performance or for making a student his personal maid in exchange for tutoring, then Gin doubted secretly handing off some idol magazines was going to do any harm. "Just put them out for recycling tomorrow. Early. It'll be fine."

"You want me to get up early?" They pulled up to a stoplight.

Gin hefted his leg up and pulled down his socks, revealing angry, red lines. "Sensei. Put them out."

Osamu licked his lips and looked away from Gin's ankle. "Yeah, I guess I should."

"Thank you." Gin put his leg back down and enjoyed the remainder of the ride to school in silence.

  
****

  
"Giiiin, I love you!"

For a week now, Gin's chief source of exercise had been dodging Koharu. "You're welcome," he said, sidestepping his flailing teammate. Koharu and Yuuji were currently broken up until Koharu stopped talking about his idol magazines at night and asking Yuuji to pose like the girls in the photos.

"It's so good of you to help Osamu-chan cast off his filthy, filthy ways." Koharu managed to latch onto Gin's arm. Even though Gin could probably snap Koharu in half, he let the other boy cling. School wasn't a place for violence.

"Who's the one with filthy ways, huh?" Osamu walked up and grabbed Koharu by the ear. "Shouldn't you be getting to class? You've got one minute until the bell."

"Look at his love power!" Koharu said, loud enough to draw the attention of everyone in the hall. "See how he fights for his beloved!"

Violence in school was bad. Very bad. "Thank you for the warning, sensei. Koharu and I were just leaving." Turning on his heel, Gin headed toward his classroom. "Sorry for the disruption."

"Giiin, wait for me! Who will warm my lonely heart while my beloved keeps rejecting me!?"

Gin turned in time to see Koharu struggle free of Osamu's ear-hold and take off down the hallway.

…and get clotheslined by his doubles partner. "Who's rejecting you, you damn adulterer?" Yuuji kicked Koharu's fallen form. "And here I was going to take you back." He kicked again. "That's it. We're over."

Before the mass of onlookers stopped watching the hallway drama unfold, Gin slipped into the classroom and found his seat.

"Koharu told me that you got your man to give up his bachelor ways. Nice." Chitose rubbed Gin's head. He did it every day, said it was for luck. Chitose was a freak. He was essential to the team, though, so Gin tried not to offend him.

"Good morning, Chitose," Gin said. "Do you have plans for the weekend?" The one good thing about Chitose was that he was easily distracted.

"I was thinking of making Kippei a little something in dad's studio, but I'm pretty bad at pottery, so I may just buy him something at the 100 yen store instead."

"Good luck." Gin moved his head away from Chitose's fingers and began taking out his lesson materials.

"What about you? Any plans?" Chitose took up his head rubbing again. "You have another study date with your man?"

Gin took a few deep breathes to release the tension in his muscles. "Sensei will be administering a final assessment exam for me this weekend. I am grateful for his help. Without it I wouldn't be eligible for the team." He hesitated before adding, "And he's not 'my man.' Please stop it."

"Older men have their appeal," Chitose said, pulling up a chair, completely disregarding their teacher's attempt at taking attendance. "I picked up this one guy at the used shop once. He was pretty cool, bought me lots of stuff. I had to call it off, though. I'm dedicated to Kippei."

Gin knew all about the Used Shop Rendezvous (that was what everyone on the team called it). Chitose was on the phone for a week with Tachibana, apologizing and vowing never to go astray again.

Relationships were too much trouble. Gin was determined to avoid them.


	5. Chapter 5

Impossible. Definitely impossible.

"Come on, Watanabe, how long has it been since you've been on a date? Just come this once."

Fujimoto was a nice guy, but he had a bad tendency to butt into Osamu's personal life, which was why Osamu only answered one in ten of his emails. "Look Fujimoto, I don't have time for that kind of thing. I'm busy."

"You got a girl?"

"No."

"Then I'll see you tomorrow night. Later!" Fujimoto hung up. Osamu could hear him laughing his good natured laugh. Fujimoto, the bastard.

"A friend?" Gin asked, moving toward the table with a bowl of potato salad. Gin's expression said, quite clearly, that he didn't think Osamu had friends.

"A guy I hung out with in university. We keep in touch." Osamu began portioning out the food into dishes while Gin brought over the tea. In the last three weeks, it had become their routine of sorts. "He wants me to go to some hookup dinner."

Gin poured tea and sat down. "Sounds fun." Gin looked down at his food and his eyebrows knit together. They did that whenever Gin had something snide he wanted to say but was too polite to voice. Osamu wasn't sure why everyone thought Gin was such a gentleman; the kid was the biggest smartass Osamu knew – besides himself, of course.

"Just spit out whatever you want to say," Osamu said around a mouth full of salad. "Your head's gonna explode if you keep it in any more."

Looking up from his food, Gin caught Osamu's eye and held it. "Please remember to put away your laundry before you go. You shouldn't bring people to the house with your laundry hanging up inside." He looked away. "And scrub the toilet."

"I'm not bringing anyone over. I'm not even going; the idiot didn't give me a chance to refuse. I'll just email him." Osamu wasn't sure why he felt the need to explain things, maybe it was because, even though Gin was caught up in math, the kid still came over to help Osamu take care of the apartment. Osamu kept tutoring him, of course, but Gin didn't really need it anymore. "Your old man said my car would be done tomorrow."

Gin sipped his tea. "Yes. The engine had to be replaced."

In truth, Osamu lived close enough to the school that he could probably have walked or ridden a bicycle if the thought of physical exertion didn't make his smoker's lungs ache. "Your folks are being too nice. I'm gonna pay them back for this."

"The miso's getting cold."

Osamu obediently drank the miso and watched as Gin calmly ate his meal. Most kids would scarf down their food and run from the table, but Gin sat, posture perfect, and addressed each dish with a seriousness that matched the intensity of his tennis. It was amazing, really, and a little bit scary. Osamu was sure Gin could take someone out with his chopsticks if he wanted to.

"Uh, say, since tomorrow's Saturday and stuff, you can just stay over if you want. I have to return the car tomorrow, so it would waste gas to make two trips."

"I can walk home. I don't want to put you out." Gin didn't look up from his rice bowl. That meant he was lying.

"I know you want to watch that show that's on tonight; Chitose told me all about it. Your family doesn't let you watch TV, so just stay here and watch it. It's no big deal." Chitose cornered him that afternoon and handed him a list of all the shows Gin watched when he slept over at other people's places. Some of them weren't so bad, and a few of them were programs Osamu watched regularly. Chitose said he'd quit the team if Osamu didn't let Gin watch some of them, so there really was no alternative. None of the brats on the team realized how much crap Osamu put up with just to keep the team together. He placated Koharu's parents (they wanted to make sure their genius son wasn't going to waste at a low-brow school), he catered to Shiraishi's enormous ego (convincing the school to approve the constant bandage replenishments in the first aid kit was a herculean task), and he met Chitose's weird ass demands (team smoothie trips, rides to art exhibits, and now watching TV with Gin) all for the sake of a unified team Shitenhouji.

Osamu was so caught up in his thoughts that he almost missed Gin's flicker of a smile and mumbled, "Thank you."

"It's no big deal. Anything for the team." He wondered why, as he said it, his stomach felt cold and sluggish. Must be the miso.

  
*****

  
"I didn't know you had company this early. Sorry, man."

Osamu's eyebrow twitched as he let Fujimoto into his apartment. "What kind of asshole comes to visit at seven in the morning on a Saturday, huh?"

"You were going to blow me off, right? I just came to make sure you come tonight and that your place isn't a total mess." Fujimoto looked around the apartment, his eyes settling on Gin's still-sleeping form. "So, who's the guy?"

"One of my students. I'm tutoring him in math." Osamu wondered if he should put some pants on. It was just Fujimoto, but standing around the house in his boxers felt uncomfortable. "I'm driving him home this afternoon, then I've got some stuff to do, so I'm not coming tonight."

Gin's snoring changed in pitch just before he snorted awake. "Sensei? What time is it? Want me to make breakfast?"

Fujimoto looked from Gin to Osamu and smiled. "Teaching classes at the university now, Watanabe?"

Explaining things to a guy like Fujimoto would do no good. "None of your business. I said I can't go, now leave."

While Osamu tried to shove his old classmate out of the apartment, Gin stood from his futon and walked toward them. Osamu would have preferred that Gin put on pants and a shirt first. "Good morning," Gin said, bowing. "My name is Ishida Gin. It's good to meet sensei's friend."

"Go ahead and take a shower," Osamu said. "Fujimoto and I have some stuff to talk about. We can have breakfast after."

"Okay." Gin padded off toward the back of the apartment. "I'll make French toast if there's still bread left."

Osamu's stomach growled. "Sounds good."

As soon as Gin was out of the room, Fujimoto coughed, drawing Osamu's attention. "I'm real sorry, man. Nobody told me how things are for you now."

"How thing are?"

"You know," Fujimoto pointed toward the shower, "you and that guy. I'm not too surprised, though."

"What the hell's that supposed to mean? I told you, I'm just tutoring him in math." Osamu clenched and unclenched his fists.

"Sensei! You're out of shampoo. Please put it on the shopping list."

Fujimoto really needed to wipe that damn smirk off his face before Osamu punched it off. "Look," Fujimoto said, "I'm the last guy to judge you, you know that. Besides, no shame if you're both consenting adults, right?" He smacked Osamu on the back, hard. "I've never seen this place look this good. This guy's good for you, Watanabe. Make sure you hold on to him."

Osamu was suddenly very aware of Gin's school uniform, folded neatly in the corner of the tatami room. "Listen, I'll call you later and we'll have drinks or something, alright? Just do me a favor and get out of here." He felt dizzy and his stomach was flopping around inside his belly. "I gotta get this place picked up a bit before I drop him off."

"How about tomorrow afternoon? We can go to that Italian joint we used to eat at. The waitresses are still as cute as ever." Then, without another word, Fujimoto showed himself out.

"Sensei?" Gin toweled his head as he walked out of the bathroom. "Your friend's gone already?"

Shaking himself, Osamu locked the front door. "That kind of guy's not my friend. Let's have breakfast and I'll drop you off at home."

Gin nodded and headed for the kitchen. "I'll get started right away."


	6. Chapter 6

  
Gin was bored. He didn't need to study too much to keep up with math now, and he'd done all the tennis practicing he could stand for the day. Usually, national holidays in the middle of the week were something to celebrate, but all he could think of doing was sitting in front of the television and zoning out. Boring.

"Gin, did you do your chores?"

He couldn't even be bothered to exert the energy to look toward his mother when she entered the room. "I did them this morning."

"Did you call Tetsu to make sure he's okay?"

"This morning."

Gin wanted to do something, but everyone was busy. Koharu and Yuuji were going to the aquarium, Kenya and Shiraishi were taking Kintarou to Universal Studios, and Zaizen was "busy" and when asked what he was doing the reply was an eyeroll and a snort. If Gin tried to eyeroll someone in his family, he'd have to borrow one of the eye patches that Chitose wore when the muscles around his eye occasionally spasmed.

"Hey, uh, what's up?"

Gin was amazed to find a phone in his hand. He didn't remember picking it up, much less clicking Osamu's number. He scrambled for a cover. "Tomorrow is landfill garbage. Don't forget."

"How could I forget it when it's circled on the calendar?" The slow, sliding laugh at the end of the remark told Gin that Osamu had forgotten why the red circle was there. Next time Gin was over, he would have to write things out instead of relying on the circles.

Wait. Next time?

"I just wanted to make sure you remembered. Bye."

"Hey wait!" Osamu called as Gin readied to disconnect the call. "Uh, I'm kinda bored here and was thinking of watching some TV." Papers rustled in the background. "Wasn't there some show you liked on today? You can come watch it here if you want." More rustling. "I'm getting a pizza and stuff, got some money from Shiraishi yesterday. He said he owed you some cash and I should give it to you. I got some groceries and things, but there's enough left over for a pizza. You can choose the toppings since you're buying."

Pizza sounded really good. And, since Gin was funding the evening, it would be a shame not to be present for the festivities. "I'll be over soon. Let me tell mom."

Twenty minutes later, loaded down with skin care product samples and a strawberry cream roll cake, Gin set off for Osamu's.

  
*****

  
Gin's mom would kill him if he went home. First she would kill him for smelling of beer, then she would kill him for having drunk the beer. When she was done with him, his father would come home and kill him all over again not because he was upset about the beer, but because he was upset that Gin made his mother upset.

"Just stay," Osamu said. Gin wasn't too sure where in the apartment Osamu was, probably under the pile of magazines he was sorting through for another round of recycling. "You left a uniform here anyway, right? I'll just take you. No big deal." The clattering of pans indicated that Osamu was in the kitchen. "Hey, uh, you know how to fix shelves?"

Getting to his feet, Gin discovered, to his chagrin, that two beers was a beer and a half too much for him. "I'll fix it for you tomorrow." Gin sat back down on the floor.

Osamu wandered in, beer in hand. "Maybe you shouldn't have had the beers," he said.

"You dared me."

"Didn't your parents teach you not to give in to childish games?" Osamu took a long sip of his fifth beer of the evening.

It would be improper to say that Gin's father taught him to face every challenge, no matter how small, head on and to the best of his ability. And win. It was very important to the Ishida family that all challenges be faced and won. After the winning was exploitation, of course, but only to enemies. Exploiting Osamu would just be wrong…and somewhat fruitless given that Osamu couldn't even keep his garbage days straight.

"How do I make the room stop swaying?" Gin asked. "My stomach feels weird." He wasn't going to throw up; he just felt slightly disoriented, as though he'd just stepped off of a roller coaster and hadn't quite gotten the hang of standing still yet.

"No, no. That's the good part. Just sit back and enjoy it for a bit." With a floor-shaking thud, Osamu collapsed to the ground. "Just relax and be one with the beer."

Gin did as he was told. He reclined back to the floor and stared at the ceiling. "There's dust on the ceiling," he said, frowning. If cleaning didn't sound like a tremendous amount of physical exertion, he would get the step stool and clear it off immediately. His limbs felt heavy, though, and the floor was comfortable.

He suddenly understood Osamu far better than ever before.

"Beer isn't good for you," Gin said, turning his head toward Osamu. "You should stop drinking it so often."

Osamu just laughed, which twisted Gin's stomach into an angry knot. The pressure of it drew Gin's attention to another matter.

"Why do you think I have all these?" Osamu threw a magazine at Gin's head. "I'm gonna take a shower. I'll, uh, yodel before I come out or something." Still laughing, Osamu staggered to his feet.

When Osamu was out of the room, Gin stood up. After throwing the magazine in the recycling pile, he grabbed a step stool and a dust cloth. His father always said that embarrassment and anger were only meant to be fuel for productive work. Gin had a lot of work to do.

  
*****

  
"…so I was thinking that Kippei really wants to get back together, you know, but he's having trouble finding the words to tell me. I figured we could maybe play some tennis and then see where things go. Whaddya think?"

Chitose wouldn't shut up. All day long he'd been going on and on about his relationship with Tachibana Kippei, recounting their tender moments (mostly fistfights) and expressing how much his "lonely, lonely heart" ached for his former teammate.

"You could always transfer to Fudomine," Gin offered. "Then you could play doubles."

"Thought about it, but my parents won't let me. They think I'll turn wild if I'm not close to home." Chitose laughed. "They think Kippei's a bad influence. Besides, Miyuki needs me to help fend off the fanboys." Chitose continued on, but Gin tuned him out. He had his own concerns, ones he wasn't willing to voice just yet, not even to himself.


	7. Chapter 7

Osamu was tired of the brats bugging him for advice so he chose to take his during-practice nap in the equipment shed. Only the freshmen ever put anything away, so he would be safe. Except Gin, the regulars were really a bunch of lazyass bastards. They could learn a few things from him.

Maybe Osamu could get Gin to fix the rickety shelf in the shed. He did a really good job on Osamu's pantry. It only took him a few tries to get it right…

  
 _"Look, I'll just deal. I don't use the shelf anyway." Osamu tried to take the hammer from Gin's hand. The kid had started fixing things while Osamu was in the shower, and it probably wasn't a good idea considering that Gin was still tipsy._

 _"It's fine, sensei. I've got it now." Gin pushed Osamu away. "The L brackets just need to be re-nailed."_

 _"It's really okay. We'll do it tomorrow." Moving forward he gripped onto Gin's shirt. If the kid shoved him again – that last one kinda hurt – he'd be able to hold on._

 _"I can't hold up the shelf when you hold on like that, sensei. Please just wait over here." Gin picked Osamu up and set him in the corner of the room._

 _Osamu held fast to the shirt. "You're drunk. Drunk guys shouldn't do anything but be drunk. You're wasting the beer." His own buzz was pretty much gone and he was more than a little pissed about it. Here he was, sharing a man's greatest bond with the kid and Gin didn't appreciate it._

 _He didn't expect Gin to rip the shirt off of his own chest when it became apparent that Osamu wasn't letting go._

 _"Just a few more minutes. You can have another beer while I get it done."_

 _Obediently, Osamu grabbed another can and sat down to enjoy it, Gin's shirt slung over his shoulder. The shirt smelled, probably because Gin was sweaty from all his failed attempts to fix the shelf. Up and down the step ladder, arms bracing the splintering shelf, flinching when he missed a nail, licking his lips when his sweat began to slide from his forehead to the corner of his mouth…shit._

 _"Uh, Gin," Osamu said, swallowing a lump in his throat._

 _Gin ignored him._

 _"Gin," he tried again._

 _Still nothing._

 _"Gin! Gin…"_

"Osamu!"

"Wha-who-fuck!" Osamu flailed his arms, banging them into brooms.

"Shiraishi said you needed me?" Gin said. He stood in the doorway, the sun turning him into a giant shadow.

"Nah. I didn't need anything." Osamu tried to sit up properly amongst the fallen equipment. "Uh, did he say anything in particular?"

"He said you were calling for me and that when you're done telling me whatever it is to have you come help him with his backhand."

Had he any measurable upper body strength, Osamu would have punched a hole in the shed wall. "Just wanted to ask you to fix the shelf here. It's old and stuff."

Gin held out a hand to help Osamu up. "I'll fix it after practice."

Osamu accepted the hand because he was a stupid, stupid man whose life was going to hell in a shittily woven handbasket. "Uh, good. Thanks. I'll just…go see Shiraishi now." As soon as he was to his feet, he started the long walk to the ball machines.

  
****

  
"You sure you should be drinking on a school night?" Fujimoto was a real pal. Osamu called him, demanding a night of deep drunkenness, and Fujimoto immediately agreed. If he'd stop asking questions he'd be more of a pal, though.

"Listen," Osamu said, "I just think it's been a while since we've had a real man's night, ya know?" He peered into the amber bliss sloshing in his mug. "A man needs a man's night cuz he's a man and other men understand what goes on in a man's mind, right?"

"Sure." Fujimoto had only had three beers, so he probably wasn't drunk enough to really understand what Osamu was going through. No sober man could dig into his corrupted, seedy heart deep enough to see the horrible, perverted motives that drove all men to do horrible, perverted things and have horrible, perverted thoughts.

Osamu took another long drink and signaled for another beer. "If I went to prison you'd come visit me, right?"

"Prison?"

"Yeah, prison." Osamu really had to pee, but if he held out a little longer he'd have to throw up, too, so he could get both done in one trip, freeing him up for more beer. "If I went, you'd visit me right, and send whores and stuff." He took a drink. "And some Nivea chapstick. His mom said chapped lips on guys are a turn off."

"His mom?" Fujimoto reached out and took Osamu's beer away. "Are you getting it on with your man's mom?"

Osamu would have laughed, but his stomach was cramping. "Nah man, she sends stuff to school with him, see, and she keeps giving me these tips."

"Sends stuff to school?"

Osamu watched as realization dawned over his friend's face. "That guy…that student…" Fujimoto drank half his beer in a swallow. "You're tutoring at the university right, man? The _university._ With _university_ students, right?"

"Never been to the university since I graduated," Osamu said, taking back his beer.

Fujimoto downed the rest of his beer and ordered another. "You haven't…done anything, right?"

"Nah, I just tutored him. And he cleaned up my house a bit. And he fixed some stuff and cooked." Osamu replayed the last month in his head, trying to find something that could be considered inappropriate. Thinking through the beer was tough. "He doesn't look much like a student, you know, so sometimes when he's cooking I start thinking that…well, I don't really think it, but I'm _feeling_ it and then I stop feeling it because it's wrong, right, and I'm not some kind of freak."

"That's pretty fucked up." Fujimoto ran a hand through his hair and shook his head. "Let's go to a hostess club and find you a loose woman. How long has it been since you've had some action?"

"A while, I think. Maybe. I dunno." The need to vomit was strong. "I'll be back." Stumbling off his bar stool, Osamu headed toward the bathroom. As he purged his body of liquid comfort, he could only think of how Gin would look upset if he knew how much Osamu had drunk.

As soon as he could step away from the toilet, he was taking Fujimoto up on that host club offer.


	8. Chapter 8

  
"Come," Koharu said, pulling at Gin's arm. "We need to talk."

Gin was concerned that Koharu didn't look like the Koharu he'd come to know and tolerate. The goofy grin was gone and the glasses weren't in their usual lopsided position on the other boy's nose. "What's the matter?"

"Not here." Koharu continued to lead them down hallways until he came to the science room. He pulled a key from his pocket. "I told them I left my notebook in here," he said when Gin gave him a look. "Hurry inside."

Not seeing a reason to refuse, Gin complied. "Did you have a fight with Yuuji again? Need me to talk to him?"

"I was just joking about you and Osamu, you know." Koharu's expression remained grave. "I didn't actually think…well, it was a possibility, but it was far too improbable for me to have considered it as a feasible outcome of your situation."

"Huh?"

"You're dating Osamu," Koharu said. "Shiraishi told me all about it."

Gin's heart took a swan dive into his stomach. "Where did he get that idea from?" If Shiraishi was running around, spreading lies, Gin was going to have to talk to him. Sternly, and possibly with fists if his captain didn't listen.

Koharu stared at him for a while before putting two hands on his shoulders. "A man doesn't call out another man's name in the throes of imaginary passion if something isn't going on. It's a biochemical impossibility."

"I'm not very good at science," Gin said. "Is Shiraishi talking to anyone else about this?" Best to get a list together quickly to minimize the damage and cleanup.

"So you _are_ dating."

"Of course we're not. He helped me with math. That's all. Stop joking around." Gin understood a few good laughs between friends, but if something like this was heard by the staff, they wouldn't just have a good chuckle and move on.

"I'm being very serious," Koharu said, "because this is a very serious issue. You should stop seeing him immediately."

Gin closed his eyes and focused on his breathing. Koharu wasn't making any sense. After counting backwards from ten, Gin attempted to clarify things. "There's nothing going on between sensei and me. He helped me with my math and we hang out sometimes. There's nothing wrong with that. My parents think it's fine, Osamu thinks it's fine, and I think it's fine. Please stop saying weird things. It's getting on my nerves."

"Did he touch you?"

Deep breathing failed to reach the silent, white place where Gin dwelled. He was encompassed by a blinding, painful light and, on his next exhalation, his fist flew forward, knocking Koharu into a rack full of Bunsen burners. "I said to stop saying weird things." Gin's voice came out in a growl that shattered all the manners he worked so hard to maintain. "If you're just going to keep at it, you can leave me the hell alone."

Heart racing and fist stinging, Gin left the room.

  
*****

  
"Crazy story," Chitose said. When Gin ditched practice to head home early he found Chitose standing in front of his shoe locker. "Back in Kyuushu I used to hang out with Kippei a lot, right? Well this guy started giving us crap about it and after a while it pissed Kippei off, so he let the guy have it."

Gin was in no mood to hear one of Chitose's Kyuushu romance stories. He half suspected they were made up anyway. "I'm busy. Please get out of my way." Just the please was a feat of mental strength.

"What I'm saying," Chitose continued, still blocking Gin's shoe locker, "is that I get you, and if you want to hang out and cool down before you go home I'll keep you company and won't piss you off." Slipping his hands into his jeans (only Chitose could get away with changing out of uniform immediately after school every day), Chitose stepped to the side, allowing Gin access to his shoes. "And," Chitose said while Gin changed, "if you want to talk, I won't go blabbing your business around the team. You listen to me, so I'm returning the favor."

It had never occurred to Gin that all of Chitose's blathering had been a sort of confidence. He felt guilty for not realizing it earlier, guilty enough to accept Chitose's unnecessary kindness. "I was going to get something to eat. You can come if you want."

"What were you going to get?"

"Yakiniku. I know a place that gives good student discounts." There was a shop not too far from the school that owed Gin's dad some money. Gin had been instructed to eat there a few times to generously bring the shopkeep's debts down. Between himself and Chitose, they could probably kick down a nice chunk of the debt in an hour.

"Awesome. Let's do it."

They left school, Gin keeping pace with Chitose's lazy stride, Chitose humming the theme to one of Gin's favorite dramas. It was peaceful and almost let Gin forget the still-bubbling discontent taking up residence inside of him.

  
****

  
After eating, Gin walked Chitose home. He didn't feel like returning to his own home just yet, and the night air was crisp and helped to clear his head. They didn't talk about much during the meal, mostly school gossip and an exchange of class notes, but the lazy cadence of Chitose's voice helped quiet Gin's anxiety and restore his inner balance.

"Thanks," Gin said as they neared Chitose's house.

Chitose grinned. "You paid; I just talked. We should do it again some time."

"Alright. Tomorrow? I know a ramen shop." Gin had a small list of places he was supposed to go (again as part of his father's debt-reducing charity) but had never been to because he didn't have a suitable companion. Chitose wasn't bad company.

"Sounds good. After practice, though, or Shiraishi'll start getting on our case." Chitose scratched at his tangled hair. "Listen, I'll talk to Koharu, tell him to lay off. Your business is your business, right?"

"I'll call Tetsu and have him check on Tachibana's schedule. I'm sure he'll know what's going on."

"You're a pal."

Gin smiled. "You, too. See you tomorrow."

With a wave, Chitose headed into his house and Gin started a quiet walk home.


	9. Chapter 9

The lack of a hangover was annoying. Osamu was sure he'd drunk enough to warrant a blasting headache and lingering nausea, but he woke up feeling fine. He felt better than fine, as though all the vomiting and bile burping had done him some good. He could, were he so inclined, go run and play tennis and do the things all other healthy men his age did…which did not include perving on middle school students.

Ah, there was the nausea.

Despite his better judgment (he had some, contrary to popular belief), Osamu made his way to school. His rust bucket of a car ran like a Porsche thanks to Gin's family friend, and the low purr of the engine twisted Osamu's stomach into a tighter knot. He had to act normal when he got to school so nobody would suspect him. He'd have to talk to Gin like he always did but slowly and carefully begin to put some distance between them. It was going to suck living off convenience store food again, but it wasn't something Osamu had a choice over.

Morning practice was relatively painless because half the team was absent, including Gin. According to Shiraishi, who had decided to become Osamu's best friend in an attempt to glean tennis tips when blackmailing Osamu failed like a dirigible in an ice storm, Gin and Chitose were having breakfast together at Chitose's house and Koharu was sulking in his homeroom and demanded that Yuuji stay with him for comfort. That left morning practice to Shiraishi, Kenya, Kintarou, and Zaizen, who were surprisingly well behaved. Osamu got an extra half hour of sleep in before classes began.

Afternoon practice was another story altogether.

Even though Shiraishi had said Chitose and Gin were getting very buddy-buddy, Osamu had half believed the comment was simply another of Shiraishi's barbs, meant to piss Osamu off in retaliation for his non-interference coaching style. Osamu didn't expect to see them stretching together (Gin always stretched with Kin-chan) and chatting during their warm-up laps. Gin didn't chat, at least not with anyone on the team.

"Osamuuuu," Koharu's arm snaked over Osamu's shoulder. "I want to talk to yooou," he whispered, way too close to Osamu's ear for comfort.

"Look, I already told you that women's panties aren't going to be part of the uniform. You can do whatever you want, but we're not making the team do it, too." Even though Osamu had some personal issues, Koharu had fifty thousand more. The school psychologist wouldn't go near him.

"Hurry up before he notices I'm here," Koharu grabbed Osamu's arm and yanked. "He hits pretty hard when he's upset."

Osamu followed not because he was curious about what Koharu had to say, but because if he didn't go, the kid would just keep annoying him, delaying Osamu's afternoon nap. "What happened to your face?" Osamu asked, noticing the purple ring around Koharu's cheek. It was probably Yuuji again. Those two fought more than was healthy for a relationship…if that's what those two were doing. Osamu could never tell.

"I fell out of bed," Koharu said. "Hit my face on some books on the floor."

"Don't screw yourself up until after the season's over, okay?" Osamu had invested more of himself in this year's nationals bonus than he'd ever invested in anything before. If the deal turned sour now, he was going to lose it. "Now, what did you want to talk about?"

Koharu pulled them into an empty classroom. "I have a problem."

"You've got lots of 'em, but what's that got to do with me?"

"I need advice and you're the only one I can talk to." Koharu's expression indicated that he wasn't very happy with his options but, because Koharu was showing him a face other than the nerdy, perverted cover he used with the team (Osamu took child psychology and knew about these things, even if he did get through the course because he borrowed notes from the girl who sat next to him) Osamu felt obligated to help him. It was what coaches did and stuff.

Osamu pulled out a chair and sat down. "Go for it."

"I just met with a friend I haven't seen in a long time and I'm worried about him. He started hanging out with some college kids and I think he might have feelings for this older girl, only I'm sure the girl is just playing with him." Koharu paused and looked to Osamu.

"Go on."

"He asked me for my opinion and I'm not sure what to say. There's a high probability that he'll disregard anything I say and continue on with her, but there's a slim chance of the two maintaining a successful relationship." Koharu frowned. "I want to kill this woman for messing up my friend's life." Again Koharu looked to Osamu, his eyes unblinking.

"Your friend's probably not as smart as you, but I doubt he's an idiot, you know. He's probably thought about all this too. Just let him do whatever and make sure you're there for him." It was a bit of advice he'd gotten from Fujimoto a few years back and, while the advice didn't help him much, it sounded really good. "If this chick's worth anything, she'll be thinking about their situation, too, and won't rush things. If she really likes your friend and he likes her, they'll make it work out, right?" Osamu's stomach began churning and he felt kind of sick. "That help?"

Koharu smiled. "Yes, it did."

Osamu was fast enough to dodge Koharu's tackle-hug. "Good. Now get your ass back to practice. We've got a match coming up."

  
******

  
"Hey," Osamu said when he and Gin were alone near his bench. Gin was putting things away in his tennis bag and Osamu was pretending to nap. "That show's on tonight. Wanna watch it?" During practice Osamu had given his options serious thought. He could spend his Friday night getting drunk alone (Fujimoto had a date) or he could spend it watching TV with Gin, as he'd become accustomed to doing. Osamu liked routine, and his stomach would rot if he had any more alcohol. Besides, Gin made some really good green tea.

"I'll come over after I go home and change. Want me to bring anything?" There was a strange quality to Gin's voice, as though his reply were forced.

"Uh, listen, if you don't want to hang out…if you've got something else to do or something…you don't have to say yes. It's cool." Osamu's body felt leaden, like he was sinking into the bench and might break through it. "You've probably got better things to do than hang out with an old guy like-"

"You're not old, please don't say that. I just have a lot of homework. I'll bring it with me." Gin stood, patting Osamu's ankle on his way up. The touch stung and sent jolts up Osamu's leg. "See you soon."

It took several moments for Osamu to regain the use of his leg.


	10. Chapter 10

"I can't do ramen tonight," Gin told Chitose while they changed out of practice clothes. "Something came up."

"No problem. Some other time." Chitose grinned and gave Gin a thumbs up. "I'm gonna call Kippei tonight and see if he wants to get together this weekend. I did some chores so I've got enough for a bus up to Tokyo."

"If you need anything, let me know. I've got some savings." Gin's allowance was generous, partly because his family knew he wouldn't spend it on frivolous things, and partly because his mother liked spoiling her children.

"I'm good. Save your cash for later." Chitose wiggled his eyebrows.

"Go home," Gin said. "See you next week."

Chitose saluted. "Email me with the details."

"No." Grabbing his bag, Gin started the walk home. He'd probably be staying the night at Osamu's place, so he'd need to bring a change of clothes. It would probably be best to shower, too. He didn't want to go over smelling like a sweaty schoolboy. The showers in the locker-room were out of commission because Kin-chan tried to do pull-ups from one of the water pipes and broke it, so nobody was able to take a shower after practice for the next week.

Having spoken with Chitose at length over breakfast, Gin was determined to be honest with Osamu. He didn't want to strain their friendship, but he wanted to make clear his feelings on the matter. If he didn't, he would just be taking advantage of Osamu's kindness, and that was wrong. Besides, Osamu wouldn't freak out over it, he'd probably think it was a joke and laugh it off. Even so, Gin had to tell him. There was no other option.

  
*****

  
Gin thought Osamu was cute. He wasn't cute like a girl, rather cute in the way a mangy dog was cute; Osamu needed a little care, but when it was over, Gin would be able to show him off and tell everyone that, yes, he was the one to civilize the beast. Civilizing in this case meant getting Osamu to keep his apartment clean and buy food that didn't fall in the "good with beer" category. But, even if Osamu remained a beer guzzling, ill-shaven, rude lazyass, he was fun and a surprising source of wisdom. He wasn't at all the idiot that Gin thought him to be, and he treated Gin as more than a hunk of muscle. He taught Gin math as though he truly believed Gin could understand him. It was the first time in Gin's recollection that a teacher had put faith in something other than Gin's physical abilities.

Also, Osamu's hair smelled good.

"Did you change your shampoo?" Gin asked when Osamu met him at the door.

Osamu let Gin into the apartment. "Yeah. You gotta change up after you use a bottle or the effects wear off. I switch between two brands." Osamu scratched at his stomach and yawned. "You bring that homework?"

Gin lifted up his schoolbag. "Mostly history."

"Can't help you with that stuff. I watch NHK, but…"

"Only to fall asleep," Gin finished.

"Yeah. Except that year that Yoshitsune was on. That was a good show." Osamu looked around. "I've got it on DVD somewhere around here. We'll watch it sometime."

Every time Osamu mentioned a future activity, a zing of contentment pulsed in Gin's chest. "I just have to look up some current events stuff in the newspaper and reflect on it."

"Reflect," Osamu snickered. "We don't really read those, so just make a good opening paragraph and a good closing statement and you're fine. The middle doesn't matter."

Instead of telling Osamu that he was full of shit, Gin reached out to brush a piece of hair out of his eye. "Your hair's still wet. You should dry it or you'll get sick." He was trying not to show Osamu how his hand was shaking as he pulled away. "I'll get dinner started."

"I was drying my hair, but _somebody_ knocked on the door." Osamu coughed and pounded his chest to get the plegm out. He was slowly cutting back on his smoking and drinking (or so he said) and his body was likely trying to purge the toxins. "Maybe I'll just give you a damn key. It would be easier."

"It would," Gin agreed, fighting to sound neutral.

"It's more convenient that way," Osamu continued. "I'm gonna go dry my hair."

"I'll go start dinner. Does salmon and salad sound okay?" Gin saw a recipe in one of his mother's magazines and wanted to try it.

"Whatever's good." Osamu disappeared out of the room. Gin quickly began preparing dinner.

  
*****

  
They fell asleep on the couch after two episodes of Yoshitsune. Gin thought it was boring, but Osamu loved it and talked animatedly about the actors involved and the research that went into the production. The effort of trying to remember it all (he had to remember it all or Osamu would be upset) drained what little of Gin's energy hadn't been sapped trying to restrain his joy when Osamu handed him a key and warned that, if he brought anyone from the team over, the key was being revoked and Osamu was going to kill him.

Gin wasn't sure what time it was when he woke, only that the DVD had returned to the menu screen and was cycling through the theme music. Osamu was asleep next to him, mouth hanging open, tongue relaxed in the corner of his parted lips. Shifting a bit, Gin became aware that Osamu's leg had hooked over one of his, Osamu's ankle twining around Gin's calf.

Not good. Very not good.

"Osamu," Gin whispered. "Wake up." He wiggled his leg, trying to get Osamu to budge.

Osamu kicked Gin in the knee and curled up into a ball on his side.

Biting back a curse of pain (his mother taught him not to curse, even in the worst situations), Gin got up off the couch and turned off the DVD. With the television off, the apartment was pleasantly dark. Lights from outside illuminated the room just enough that Gin could make out Osamu's huddled form on the couch.

Gin could hear Chitose's voice in his head, telling him ridiculous things like "get on with it" and "it will be fun." He could hear Koharu chiding him but laughing because Koharu knew it all along and it was only a matter of time. He could hear Kin-chan making gagging noises and wondering what the hell was wrong with Gin-san, maybe he ate something bad.

Above it all, he heard himself, the beating of his heart as he stepped closer, the painful creaking of the floor with each step.

This was a stupid idea.

Still, he had been determined when he arrived to do…something. This was surely something, even though Osamu would never know about it.

His knees bumped the couch as he squatted down. His hands shook as he brushed away hair that had fallen over Osamu's face. "Osamu," he whispered as he leaned in closer. "Please wake up." He didn't mean it, but he needed that last effort to maintain his civility, a last ditch effort to play fair, before he became a lecherous thief in the night, no better than Shiraishi when he copped feels of Kenya during practice.

Osamu didn't stir.


	11. Chapter 11

  
Prison. He was going to prison. He didn't really care at the moment, but he was going nonetheless.

When Gin's hand started to move downward from Osamu's shoulder, it was time to wake up.

"So, uh, maybe we should talk," Osamu said into Gin's mouth. Gin's kiss was sloppy, definitely a first-time effort, but Osamu's stomach was doing flips all the same – and only partly because of the going to prison thing, though that was a major part of it.

Gin quickly stepped back and bumped his legs into the table. "I'm sorry." He bowed. In the scarce light Osamu could barely see Gin's legs shaking.

"Sit down."

"I should go home."

Osamu sighed and lunged forward to grab onto Gin's arm. It wasn't nearly as difficult as it should have been to drag Gin back to the couch. "Ah…" Now that he had Gin sitting beside him and could feel the embarrassed heat radiating from the boy, he had no idea what the hell to say. This was a conversation adults were supposed to have not…

Shit. Prison. Cement boots.

Gin moved as if to get up but flopped back down. "I should go home. I'll give you your key back. I'm sorry."

"This is why I hate kids," Osamu said, fumbling around a side table for a cigarette. Now was not the time to be cutting back. "Stop with all this drama and just say what it is you have to say." He flipped his lighter on and, upon seeing Gin's frown, put the cigarette down.

"You said you were cutting back," Gin said. "It's not good for you."

Osamu had used a lot of choice words for guys who complied with stupid requests. As he put his lighter away, he called himself all of them twice.

"I could go to prison," Osamu said, "so that kind of thing is out. You can still come over, though, and cook and stuff."

Gin's eyes went wide. "That kind of thing?"

The stupid kid hadn't even thought about it. Oh god.

"What I'm saying is that…that…" You didn't say this kind of thing to a kid. You just didn't. "I'm saying that having you around is good, so keep the key and come over whenever you want." He gave in and leaned forward, briefly touching his lips to Gin's forehead. "And cut that shit out when a guy's trying to sleep. You'll give me a heart attack."

  
*****

  
Things returned to normal. Gin came over, though not every week, and Osamu did as promised and cut back on his unsavory habits. He wasn't going to stop completely because a guy had to have some fun in life or what was the point of living, right? They didn't mention the incident on the couch, and Osamu did his best to make sure a repeat performance didn't occur. If Gin graduated middle school safely, Osamu might give him another light one on the head, but that was it. There were rules (and laws) and they couldn't take any of this too seriously. First off, Osamu knew he wasn't the best catch in the world and, second, Gin was still a kid and probably didn't understand what the hell he was saying when he mumbled things out in his sleep, keeping Osamu awake with horrible thoughts at night.

"Hey Osamu, can I get some advice?" Chitose shoved Osamu's feet off the bench and sat down. "We've got this game against Fudomine coming up and I'm nervous."

Osamu knew that Gin and Chitose were friends. He didn't think being friends with Chitose was good for Gin, but everyone needed a slacking, no good, moocher friend. Osamu knew because he had filled the gap for many an individual in the course of his life. It was because Gin liked Chitose that Osamu put up with Chitose's current habit of interrupting Osamu's nap for meaningless chitchat. "Don't pivot so much in your serve and maybe you won't be so nervous. Bye."

Chitose sighed like a girl. "Kippei's probably going to do something dumb and dramatic, and I just want it to be like old times. He doesn't get that I'm not mad at him about the eye thing. What do I do?"

"You try tellin' him about it?" Why was he encouraging this conversation?

"He's really simple, Kippei is. He probably wouldn't listen." Chitose let out a small growl. "What should I do? He'll probably want to take a tennis ball in the eye so we'll be even."

Osamu couldn't help but let out a small snicker. Maybe other people had weirder relationships than he did. "Then let him take a ball to the eye if it makes him feel better. No big deal."

"But it's his _eye._ "

" _His_ eye, kid, not yours. He can poke it out with a chopstick if he wants to. Not your place to say."

Chitose pitched forward, hiding his face in his hands. "Relationships suck."

Getting up from the bench, Osamu patted Chitose on the shoulder. "You get used to it." After a stretch, Osamu meandered toward the courts. Gin said he was going to use the ball machines today. Goody.

  
*******

  
"Why is this okay and other things aren't?"

"Stop complaining and keep rubbing," Osamu ordered, wiggling his toes. "And this is okay because you scared the crap out of me. What were you thinking, playing like that?"

"Win."

"Idiot. And watch your hands. This is a foot massage. _Foot._ " Osamu glared at Gin's hands until they wandered away from his knee. After the match with that Seigaku kid, Gin had been acting strange.

"There's a long weekend coming up," Gin said while his fingers dug into the sole of Osamu's foot, making use of the foot cream his mother had sent over with him. "What are you going to do? You'll have that bonus by then."

"Oh, uh, I was just gonna buy some beer, maybe get some new pants. The ass in these is wearing out." At any given point in time, Osamu only owned three pair of pants. He bought one new pair a year and retired one pair a year. It was a system that had worked for him since college and he wasn't going to change now, no matter how many times the kids on the team tried to suggest Osamu be more fashionable. Skinny jeans and glitter t-shirts were for guys who weren't getting any and wanted to attract easy chicks. Osamu wasn't getting any but easy chicks, while previously attractive, weren't currently on his menu. Sainthood and being an upstanding member of his community were on his menu. "Hands, Gin."

"You should go somewhere." Gin ignored Osamu's warning and continued rubbing the back of Osamu's knee. Osamu let him because, as of yet, Gin hadn't wandered into the Imprisonable Zone and Osamu was, at heart, a stupid, stupid man.

"There's nowhere to go."

Gin's hands returned to Osamu's feet. "What kind of pants are you going to buy?"

Ah, crap. "Do you, uh, know of any good places to go. You know, cuz I don't really get out much."

Gin's fingers massaged a little higher and a little deeper. "There's a pro wrestling event at the Dome."

Pro wrestling? Osamu expected something along the lines of going to the aquarium or a trip to a hot spring, but…wrestling? "Sure. We'll go order the tickets later."

"Okay." Gin smiled and tickled the back of Osamu's leg. "Can we bring Chitose and Tachibana?"

"No. I'm not a babysitter. Besides, that kid annoys the crap out of me." Osamu flexed his toes and rolled his ankle. "What's for lunch?"

"You said we were going out for pizza." Gin continued massaging. The lotion was almost all absorbed and his calluses felt weird in a far too pleasant way. "I thought you got some money off Kenya yesterday. And what about what you got from Zaizen the day before that?"

"Oh yeah. I forgot about that. It's over there somewhere." Osamu gestured toward the entryway cabinet. "I think I put the cash in a shoe or something." Gin had been bugging him to start keeping track of how often he took money from each member of the team, so he'd started shoving the cash in special shoes. Shiraishi was the aqua pair of Crocs, Chitose was the maroon flip flops, and Kenya was Osamu's one pair of dress shoes. He even included a little sticky note with the date the funds were acquired. His beer cutback left him with a lot more extra cash than he'd anticipated, but he couldn't just stop leeching off the kids; that would draw suspicion. Also, in the off chance that he did wind up behind bars, Gin could use the savings to send him snacks.

"I'll put it in the notebook."

Osamu's feet felt cold when Gin got up to go to his backpack. "What notebook?" he asked.

"I started recording the money we take in from school. I think you can up the dollar value of each exchange slowly if we monitor it carefully and spread the operation to a few more students." Gin pulled out a notebook and a piece of paper. "I made a list of kids with big allowances. The top five are my personal recommendation."

"Aren't these the kids from the basketball team that picked on Kin-chan two weeks ago?"

"Yes."

Osamu took the list. "Sure, why not." Gin was making allowances for his weird habits, so it was only right to reciprocate. He did feel obligated to ask, "Do your parents know you do this kind of stuff?"

Gin smiled and sat down on the couch next to Osamu, setting the notebook half on Osamu's lap and half on his own. "It's just practice. Don't worry about it."

"Practice?"

"Let's order pizza."

Not wanting to think on it too much, Osamu stretched for his phone. Before dialing, he looked down to the figures in the notebook. That was a lot of money. "Seafood and corn okay with you?"

"Whatever you want is fine."

Osamu ordered the seafood and corn pizza and a beer. He'd cut down to only one a day, and he felt he deserved this one more than most. He had a feeling that, as days went by, the beer would just taste sweeter and sweeter – possibly because, if Gin was right, he could buy some really fancy stuff.

"One for me, too."

"Sit over there and do your damn homework."

Or maybe it would be sweeter because it would be the only sane, predictable part of Osamu's life for a long, long time.


End file.
